


for you.

by retroberly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retroberly/pseuds/retroberly
Summary: ➥ Our love is a book missing its last page. It makes you wonder how it ended.➥ Y/n L/n, this is the last page of our love story. The torn page everyone kept on looking for-the real reason why we broke up.❝ I'm still sorry ❞❝ you don't mean that ❞❝ Oh, we were so close ❞❝ You are missing from me ❞❝ I can't escape the way I love you ❞ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ-ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰┈─➤ ❝ 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗬/𝗻 ❞From 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿____________________ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴsᴇʀᴛ⟣➵ ⚡️© ʀᴇʀᴛʀᴏʙᴇʀʟʏ, Pʟᴏᴛ© Hᴀʀᴜɪᴄʜɪ Fᴜʀᴜᴅᴀᴛᴇ, Hᴀɪᴋʏᴜ̄!! Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀscross-posted on wattpad
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

hi !! my name is kim, i would love to make friends here on ao3. kudos and comments are appreciated <33

* * *

THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND:

—this will be a short story

—slow and irregular updates

—does not completely follow haikyu's timeline

—characters might me ooc

—angst but it has cute scenes i guess

—will always be in Atsumu's POV

—i wrote this during the start of quarantine so i guess the writing isn't really my best and i'm too busy to rewrite it sooooo

—i'll be using she/her pronouns

—female reader insert

—there will be grammar mistakes for sure but don't bash me cause of it 😔

—not aesthetically pleasing, but I try

* * *

_playlist._   
_Knocking on your heart.Maggie Lindeman_   
_Almost is never enough.Ariana Grande_   
_Let me down slowly.Alec Benjamin_   
_Somebody Else.The 1975_   
_Lookalike.Conan Gray_   
_Coaster.Khalid_

* * *

to all the readers who also watch assassination classroom I have an Asano Gakushuu book published :>

* * *

  
enjoy reading !!!

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨︎ ✰ @retroberly ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

˗ˏ✎ [ much love ] *ೃ  
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ-  
╰┈─➤ ❝ from kim ❞


	2. for you.

"Guilt all gone?" I asked as I walked pass my past lover, Y/n. I continued walking and never got an answer in return.

A Sad Beautiful Tragic.

Our love was too good to be true, but it was wasted, and it was too late to be fixed. Everything was perfect until the train ran off its tracks.


	3. the first letter.

Dear Y/n,

This box has everything you've ever given me: every daily memo, love letter, reviewers, bracelets, and even every FRES candy wrapper with those little notes on the back.

The box has everything that ever symbolized or had to do with you. Everything reminds me of you, and I don't want that anymore. I want to let you go and burn the memories. And I wouldn't achieve that if I won't give this back to you. Feel free to throw away your gifts and letters, but please take the time to read this journal.

This journal is irrelevant, I admit. But you can't stop me from giving this to you, can you? I wouldn't blame you if you told me off for using such a word. But welcome to this diary, well maybe it's a book.

this, Y/n L/n, is the real reason 

_why we broke up_


	4. the statue.

The statue. The one at school near the back canteen. That was where I first made my move on you. That statue never really held any sentimental value to me in the first half of 8th grade. That all changed in the second half of the year, obviously. I never planned to make a move on you, but I did anyway.

You and your friend Hitoshi Ginjima chatted near the statue, talking about the play we were going to perform soon. It was chilly, and you weren't wearing a hoodie, you had made a wrong choice of leaving your hoodie that day.

you noticed me walking up to you, so you stopped replying to Gin and greeted me: "Good mornin'Tsumu-kun."

Your accent fluently slipped from your mouth, that was one of the things I liked about you—your small smile, was so cute that it could rule the world. You made me feel warm even though you're the one who needs the tepidity.

"Do you want my jacket?" I asked out of the blue. You looked at me with tired eyes, you never have been a morning person. I took notice of your slightly blue lips and frowned. "Nah, you'll get cold. Don't worry 'bout me,"

I knew you were lying. Every inch of you was. You were tired of being the scriptwriter and assistant director at the same time. However, you still gladly agreed to talk about it with Gin. Your eyes were even more dull, light circles forming below your eyes, you were obviously trying to balance your work.

It was getting kind of awkward as the both of you talked and talked, my stupid brain did not even get a single word. When you guys changed the topic and started talking about something, not school-related. I butted in and pointed at our school's statue.

"Do you think it's scary?" I asked the two.

"Not really," Gin said. "There are a lot of rumors about the statue, though," he continued.

You walked towards the statue and tried to get a closer look at it. And that was when I subconsciously followed you and snaked my hand to your petite waist.

You failed to notice my arm around you, at least that's what I thought. Although, I'm glad that you stopped shivering. I glanced at your focused figure, you were intensely observing the said statue with my arm still around you.

"The eyes are scary," you commented, your gaze still fixated on the statue.

You looked back at Ginto get his opinion, and I immediately removed my arm. I almost got caught that day.

You went back to Gin's side and asked why he looks like he was hiding something. You sure knew your friends so well.

He shook his head, refusing to answer, and you just sighed in defeat.

A member of the student council asked for your help, so you excused yourself and left me with Gin.

"Nice move, back there." 

I hummed in response as I stare at your working figure.

"She probably noticed, though,"

He admitted. My eyes widened, and I turned my head to face him.

If you knew, then why didn't you push away?

A small glimpse of hope sparked in my heart as I made my goal to you falling in love with me too. Albeit, it was nothing more than wishful thinking, I still yearned for it.

There were rumors that you still liked your past fling, but who cares about that? I can treat you a lot better than he did, and that's a promise. You were my always in all ways, just like how the moon sees the sun as its only star.

If I somehow knew that we wouldn't last, then I wouldn't have let you go. I wouldn't have removed my arm from your waist. We could have both felt warm and safe with you in my arms and me in yours.

That was the statue where most confessions took place. According to you: the statuette with scary eyes. The figurine that supposedly guides the students of that very school. Now holds the first romantic moment you and I shared.

Although, Y/n, that statue is one of the reasons

_why we broke up_


	5. the black marker.

The black marker. The one that came with a variety of different colored tags in the box. The one that I used to innocently ruin your portfolio.

You weren't lying when you boasted that you won the school's poster making contest for three consecutive years. I didn't ruin your poster cause of jealousy if that's what you thought. Well, kinda, I was jealous that you were getting too close with our president. But then again, who was I to feel that way before?

You were initially grouped with me and my teammate Suna, but you took off and went by our president's side anyway. I'm not a tad bit bothered by your choice of peers, No.

I'm bothered by the green-eyed monster that was eating at me. There was nothing I could do about it, but accept that I couldn't easily discard this feeling in my core.

I'm not in love with you. I'm not in love with you. I am _not_ in love with you.

I just like you, and I don't love you. I just like you, and I don't love you.

That was what _I_ thought.

I looked at you from the other side of the room. Your ever so innocent face smiling at our president while he discusses the different colored pencils that he was willing to share with you.

I glanced at your aesthetically pleasing work as an idea popped in my mind. I grabbed my set of markers with a grin, thinking of mischief.

I looked back at you and then your work, at you, and then at your work again. I grabbed my black permanent marker and devilishly placed a curvy line right in the middle of your creation's skirt. Suna deadpans and shook his head in disappointment. I stuck my tongue out, the playful side of me peering.

Just in time, you went back to our group and observed me and Suna's project. I innocently continued mine as Suna just whistled. By the time you noticed the new stroke in your artwork, you instantly gave me a glare.

If looks could kill, I would have been _dead_ before I knew it.

"Atsumu," you growled.

Suna immediately took out his phone, prioritizing blackmail content than breaking school rules.

I tore my eyes away from my work and looked at you. You gave me an angelic smile, my heart would have flutter if I never knew what would happen next. As I was about to tease you of your smile, you hastily pointed your thumb at my throat.

I was caught off guard and tried looking for the teacher. Yes, I was _that_ scared of you. But to my dismay, the teacher was out. You still didn't remove your thumb from my throat, which made me terrified and uncomfortable at the same time.

You slowly but surely slid your thumb, describing how you'll kill me the next time I mess with something graded. If this wasn't a life or death situation, then my cheeks would have been a crimson red pool.

But luck wasn't on my side that day, and the feeling of happiness was soon replaced with _fear_.

You went back to your original place, strutting like a satisfied penguin (you look cute whenever you do that, btw). You then stared at your somewhat ruined art and tried to think of a way to salvage it.

Results arrived, and the teacher posted the top three best portfolios in the class. I was surprised, to say the least, when I saw your art on the top spot. Your work was now filled with bold strokes. The once clean skirt of the girl you drew was filled with abstract strokes and color.

It should have been illegal to have that much talent in such a _small_ body.

The marker that smelled good even if it was filled with toxins. The one that I used to make your art even more eye-catching. Your portfolio that I doubt you kept after all these years. At that period, when we shared a few laughs, I simply had no clue that, _That's_ one of the reasons,

_why we broke up_


	6. the flash drive.

The flash drive. The small device that held every single document from our school projects. The tiny piece that connects me to you.

In the last semester of 8th grade, I was blessed by the heavens above to be grouped with you and other honor students. Well, I _thought_ it would be nice. But at the first group meeting, it was anything other than peaceful. All of you have these working brains clashing ideas one after another. I wasn't much help either, since I just agreed to anything you say, without actually thinking it through.

 _That_ was the wrong choice.

We all ended up choosing your suggestion, the hardest one. You claimed that it would rack us extra points if we did something extravagant. What's with you and extra points?

So there we were, your best friend Haru sitting on the computer cubicle's room. While you and I were standing next to each other too close for comfort. You didn't seem to mind back then, though. You were too focused on the work ahead of us.

"Miya-san, the flash drive?" Haru broke me from my thoughts.

I complied and handed him the drive and intensely looked at the contents of the flash drive. Making sure I deleted every single stolen picture of you that your friends took.

But, there was _one_ picture of you left there.

The candid picture that our photographers took for a project since you looked so photogenic. You were just recycling your smart C bottle, but it somehow made my heartbeat quicken.

Oh, the things _you_ did to my heart.

Your eyes widened when you saw the picture, you obviously never noticed that you were getting pictured. I stared at you, unsure of how you would feel. But Alas, you decided to shrug it off and continue to look for our current project.

Haru asked me to Log-in on my Facebook account so he could take some pictures of me there. Oh, how I regretted that so much. You seem to realize it as soon as he mentioned _Facebook_ , though.

You didn't want him to read our text messages. We've chatted here and there, and I never once let an opportunity to flirt slide. That's why you seem flustered and looking away, probably thinking of an excuse.

But did you need an excuse? No, the whole class wanted us to end up together, anyway.

Haru continued to skim through my account as I felt your hands sweat. It was cold in the library, and you were sweating. How nervous were you back then?

I hesitantly intertwined my fingers in yours and rubbed small circles on it with my thumb. You seemed to calm down, and not even the slightest bit amused by the whole holding hands thing going on.

Haru finished his part of the project and took his leave so he could eat his lunch. That left you with me. You looked at the contents of the flash drive once again, looking bored.

"That's a nice picture," you nonchalantly said as you stared at the candid photo you modeled in.

Funny though, how _the picture remained but the person in it left_.

You sighed as you shut off the computer and ejected the flash drive. You played with the keychain attached to the flash drive and found amusement in such a little thing. I laughed at your antics before grabbing the flash drive that was no longer yours nor mine. 

The one with the school projects in it. The one that looks cheap but was filled with a priceless workload you have contributed—the one you loved to play with whenever you felt anxious. The pictures of you modeling for something school-related was stored inside that flash drive. The flash drive is one of the reasons,

_why we broke up._


	7. the navy blue hoodie.

The navy blue hoodie. The one drowned in your cologne, I admittedly used to love the scent whenever you passed by. The one that I accidentally splattered paint on. The hoodie that you and I both had. 

We were seatmates when we both coincidentally wore the same shade and brand of a hoodie. This matter raised our peers' suspicions even more. That was the first time I saw you flustered cause of me. And oh, was it a sight to behold. 

It was art class when I accidentally brushed my paintbrush on your new jacket. While you just stared at the latest addition to the hoodie's plain design, I knew that you were fuming. I expected one hell of wrath but was only met by a cold, sticky sensation on my cheeks, neck, arm, and slightly rolled up hoodie, all in one second. 

You just stared at me, blankly as if you were challenging me. I didn't bother you even more, though. 

I knew that I'll _never_ win. I never win when _you_ are the opponent. I never win when it comes to you. 

The next day you served looks and came to school wearing a different hoodie with the same shade of blue and one that looks slightly bigger than the one yesterday. 

"Well, aren't you the rich kid," you just rolled your eyes and continued your way to the classroom, ignoring my teasing smirk. 

That day was a blur and was tedious, to say the least. You were clearly distancing yourself from me whenever I held an art material. Your portfolio and now your hoodie, what else could I ruin next? 

But I _never_ ruined anything after that. 

_You_ were the one whoscourged _me_.

 _You_ were broken, and I _knew_ , but you didn't have to _break_ me too.

Maybe I was Icarus, and you were the sun. I died loving you. 

I wished I knew from the start that you would leave me. Wish I wrote my name on your hoodie so you won't forget me like you do today. I hoped that I still felt the warmth both navy blue hoodies had to offer. But if I'm honest with you, This navy blue hoodie is definitely one of the reasons,

_why we broke up_


	8. the black hair tie.

The black hair tie. I asked you to keep it but gave it back the next day anyway—the one with a cute ribbon and polka dots. The hair tie that I used to braid your messy hair with when you were stressed.

It was dismissal time, and yet you were still stuck in the school stressed trance of yours. The dismissal assembly started, and you were still cramming and scrunching up your nose whenever you made a small mistake. Your long black hair was left untied and unkept, you weren't caring about appearances right now. You never did, actually.

But I felt worried, so I sat behind you and started massaging your tense shoulders. You flinched at the sudden touch but later then hummed in satisfaction. You continued your schoolwork with a smile and a calm demeanor.

"Do you want me to tie your hair?"

"Do you know how?"

"Yeah."

"Suit yourself."

I started to comb your hair before I separated it into three sections. Your hair was silky soft, naturally h/c, and thick. It fit your figure perfectly. I went unto business and started to create a braid despite the windy weather and teasing stares.

All the practice with my Mom's hair when I was bored was worth it, after all.

"When is your birthday?" I asked you. 

"The week after next week," you mumbled.

"Happy birthday." You just smiled at the joke and focused on your work.

I quickened the pace and was greeted by the perfect braid I have done on your hair. I grabbed the hair tie, I specifically bought for you (I even made sure that the hair tie wasn't a violation of the school's dress code) and started to secure the braid.

"Thanks, 'tsumu-kun."

"Anything for the Birthday Girl."

You smiled as the bell rang, signaling that the closing assembly was done. You took off immediately but failed since you bumped into a few people at times. You were a huge klutz, back then.

And there was this part of me that wished you still were a klutz today.

There was no one to tease whenever the people would give you ugly glares—no more chances to catch you before you fall after bumping into other students. No more school books to hold for you whenever you go to the library so you wouldn't endanger your expensive books. No more, Y/n beside me. No more other life to get you back.

This hair tie, Y/n, is one of the reasons, 

_why we broke up._


	9. the math equation.

The math equation. The one that our teacher asked you to make. The question you made that was a monster for _us_ , non-honor students. The one item that was initially created for third year students. The one that left _me_ sulking and _you_ laughing. Sounds familiar? That's because _that_ is what happened _afteqr_ our breakup.

I honestly thought that being paired up with you during math was a blessing. It was a second studying method, where honor students supervise students like me. The smile on my face never wavered until you showed me the equation you made specifically for me.

"I won't stop calling you dumb unless you answer this question," you said with a smug smirk.

_Where_ did the Y/n I flirted with online go?

No matter how many times I stare at it, nor push my brain to its limits. I still can't get the answer. And you again never stopped teasing me.

"I 'xplained this a ton of times, noh?" you said in your accent.

You finally gave in and answered the equation while explaining it. Yes, I still didn't get it.

"Yer' hopeless."

Yeah, I _was_ hopelessly in love with you.

"It's a tough question," I finally spoke up.

You just nodded and ran your fingers to your hair.

"If we ended up together, yer intelligence will make up for the lack of mine," I unintentionally voiced out my thoughts.

"I knew you would say that," you replied, not even tearing your gaze away from your messy math paper.

"I know everything about you. You're an open book written for very dumb children."

"you should be mindful of yer words! It hurts you know!"

However, just like how I desperately looked for the equation's answer.

I kept on searching for _the one_.

Until I realized that I already found her, _you_.

But then I lost you in my arms.

It's hard to see you slip away, my fingers are so numb. How was I supposed to know that you were not _the one_?

And I'll always blame fate that you never had me at my best. Because I'm sure that if only you did, you wouldn't have left.

With that smart mind, I'm sure you somehow knew that the love we had won't last forever. But _did_ you ever wish that it would?

The messy math sheet that you see in this box. The one you made just to watch me suffer is one of the reasons, 

_why we broke up_


	10. the dolls.

The dolls. My first ever phobia. The one fact about me that I never wanted anyone to know. I'm sure you have used it as blackmail a couple of times. 

"Come on, Tsumu-kun, tell the camera what's your biggest fear," you said with the biggest grin on your face.

"Dolls. I'm afraid of dolls," I said with my lower lip on display. 

You laughed and laughed until tears were forming in your eyes. Although I love seeing you happy, I forgot about that bully hiding behind that innocent mask of yours. 

"Happy?"

"Very," you replied as you replayed the video over and over again in full volume.

I started tackling you in a big hug to grab your phone and delete that video of me. You then started running, which was unfair cause I just finished practice that day. I sluggishly chased after you. We looked like elementary students, especially you considering your height. 

How many times have you made me sulk and enjoyed every second of it? 

But, the truth is everyone is going to hurt us. You're just lucky that _you_ are worth suffering for. 

That same day, you flooded our text messages with pictures of dolls, from innocent-looking ones to scary and traumatic dolls. 

**_ Atsumu _ **   
_bye._   
_You're lucky I love to see you smile._

**_ Y/n _ **   
_huh Tsumu, so sweet? impossible_

**_ Atsumu _ **   
_It's not impossible, tsk._

**_ Y/n _ **   
_You're the reason why I always smile : > _

I stared at my screen and felt heat creeping on my ears. I cupped my cheeks and realized that I am flustered. Damn aircon, it's not working. 

**_ Y/n _ **   
_cause you're a joke :)_

**_ Atsumu _ **   
_k._

**_ Y/n _ **   
_I'm JOKING I'M SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY._

After all those moments we shared, you still didn't hesitate to cut our ties off. Our Love went from butterflies on my stomach to a sudden stab on my chest. 

But I'm a fool, a fool _for you_ , just like how I can't erase my phobia. I could _never_ escape the way I love you. And maybe it's a divine curse how we choose to love someone who can't love us back. Or how we hold unto someone who can't seem to _stay_. The word _Love_ has failed me. 

I forgot to tell you one thing, though, other than dolls, there was this one fear that I'll never admit nor say out loud; 

I was scared of losing you. 

But I lost you anyway. It was lovely yet dreadful how temporary things felt permanent for a moment. Why did you stay longer in my head than you did in my life? 

And that night, I vividly remember dreaming of you. Your back was facing me, and I was consistently trying to reach you. You were like a mirage; you keep on getting further and further away from my grasp. I couldn't make you stay. And that, unbeknownst to me, was a warning, a wake-up call perhaps. 

Everyone kept on telling me to _stop_ dwelling on the past and just focus on the present. But the present time was much direr. Cause the present tense made me look back in our history. Life is hard. It sucks.

Life was tough, then you came. Life was tough _again_ because you left. 

oh Y/n, oh Y/n, the dolls that haunted me after that day is one of the reasons,

_why we broke up_


	11. the cola.

The cola. The one I gave you on the morning of December. The drink I bought for you, assuming that sodas are your favorite refreshers just like everybody else in our year.

"Hey, Suna! Do y'know where Y/n is?"

Suna looked back at his faux blonde teammate. Slightly annoyed by how energetic Atsumu was first thing in the morning. He raised a dark brow before remembering passing by the student council room.

"Heh? Loverboy misses his girl already?" The brunette teased—red tints flooding Atsumu's cheeks and ears. "Baka," Suna said before snapping a picture of his teammate's blush in all three angles.

"Shut yer trap!" Attempting to throw a tantrum. Failing, however, because of the great embarrassment he felt.

"She's in the student council room," Suna finally answered. Not looking up from his phone. Sending Atsumu's pictures to the volleyball team's group chat.

"Thank you," Atsumu muttered. Walking away from Suna, he heaved a heavy sigh. Staring at the cola soda he bought for you. Now that he thinks of it, He never saw you drinking soda. It was always that one chocolate milk drink. Hopefully, you liked to try something new.

Without even knocking, Atsumu burst into the student council room. Thinking you were just alone, and it doesn't really matter that much. Not until his eyes landed on you and his second-year senpai from the volleyball team.

The faux blonde tilted his head in confusion. The player with white hair and dark tips. Quiet, Mysterious, Intelligent, but oddly enough, he wasn't a regular. He doesn't even have a jersey yet. Atsumu thought of a hundred reasons why you two had this small meetup.

_Are they childhood friends, perhaps?_

_Tutor?_

_Are they in a secret relationship?_

The last question was ringing the most in Atsumu's head. About to throw a fit and accuse you of not telling him about this _odd_ pair. You raised your hand as an indication for him to not even continue what he was about to do.

"Tsumu-kun, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't get so rowdy in the student council room."

Atsumu then sweatdropped. Amazed and insecure cause of how easily you read him. Remembering the words you said to him the other week: _"You're an open book written for very dumb children."_

"Anyways, I bought this _for you_ ," Atsumu said while walking towards your work table. He glanced at your organized yet packed table, making sure to put the soda somewhere that wouldn't damage your council work.

The second-year sitting right across your table then clicked his tongue. Looking at you with concern mixing in his brown eyes.

"You sure you want _that_ Y/n?"

The first-year setter squinted his eyes from that statement. Is he implying that he can give something better than an ordinary soda from the vending machine?

"Of course I do," you rep _lied_.

"I appreciate the soda, Tsumu-kun."

"Thank you. And good luck with your practice match today!" you smiled at the blonde. Sending immediate butterflies fluttering in Atsumu's stomach.

"How did you know we have a practice match today?"

"Oh, _Shinsu-nii_ told me," you replied while pointing at the second-year present in the room.

"Nii?"

Kita cleared his throat before replying, "I'm her _cousin_."

Atsumu stepped back, his mouth fell agape. "COUSIN?"

You just chuckled. Knowing that the poor setter actually thought you and Kita had something going on between you.

"Morning practice is starting, Miya. We should get going." Kita said before grabbing his bag and walking out the door.

"See you later, Tsumu! Win the practice match _for me_ , alright?" Atsumu nodded before catching up with the second year spiker.

You glanced at the soda and sighed. "Too bad I won't be drinking _this_."

Loving you was sparkling and fizzling like the bubbles of a coke soda. Loving you tasted so fresh.

But when you left, the sweet sparkling soda turned _bittersweet._

Me loving you was like a coke soda,  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


and you're _acidic_.

The soda, Y/n. Is one of the reasons  
  
  


_why we broke up_


	12. the first song.

The first song. A song you and I use to always listen to after classes. A mellow tune you hummed to while your head lay on my beating heart. A piece that never failed to keep you and me calm. 

It was another day of another bad week. The stress from joining so many clubs was now clawing to your fragile mentality. As for me, I could barely feel my legs after the rather intense after-class training coach let us do. We both were tired. Wishing ever so fervently for this week to just end. 

"Play the next song, Atsumu-kun." You said. Although it came out muffled since your head was nuzzled on my chest. 

I softly hummed and pressed on my phone's buttons—the newly played song ringing in both of our ears with the connected earphone cable you had. 

_ "Hey, hey, hey, lover!" _

_ "You don't have to be a star." _

I felt your mouth form a little smile. Your arms slowly tightening around me as you let yourself be one with the fun beat of the song. I let out a smirk before closing my eyes and laying my head on the vast tree bark behind us. 

_ "Hey, hey, hey, lover." _

"I love you just the way you are," you sang along. 

My head slowly bobbed in sync with the happy beat. Feeling a sense of easiness for the first time this week. I fell into the mood, the anxiety and restlessness slowly slipping away. 

I wrapped my arm around your waist and the other, patting your already unkempt hair. The song was about wanting to be in love and staying in love for the rest of their lives. Which were the perfect epitome of what I fantasized you and I would be. Oh,  _ shocker _ . Miya Atsumu, your seemingly typical jock, is a hopeless romantic. 

I  _ wished  _ that we could stay like that forever. But then again, because of this whole after-school memory that I despised such a cheerful song. A song about love? Give me a break. I can't even enjoy the music as long as that scenery was stuck in my trying heart. 

Do you wanna know a secret,  _ Y/n _ ? I wished I never fell in too deep. 

It was a kiss from hell when you left a second too early, and I ran a second too late. We could have saved the dying hours of our clock. 

_ To be loved and to love once again. Hey, hey, hey, Lover! _

It was a kiss from hell. When you bled more, but I bled longer. 

Loving you was a losing game, after all. 

Here's to all the songs wasted on a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. 

This, y/n, my Lover, is the reason.

_ why we broke up _


End file.
